Edge Of Fear (Arrow's Edge MC Book 4), Freya Barker [best classic literature .txt] 📗

Table of Contents

EDGE OF FEAR

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ALSO BY FREYA BARKER

Copyright © 2021 Margreet Asselbergs as Freya Barker

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or by other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author or publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in used critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses as permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, mentioning in the subject line: “Reproduction Request”

at freyabarker.writes@gmail.com

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, any event, occurrence, or incident is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created and thought up from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN EBOOK: 9781988733616

Cover Design:

Freya Barker

Cover Image:

Golden Czermak (FuriousFotog)

Cover Model:

Scott Benton

Editing:

Karen Hrdlicka

Proofing:

Joanne Thompson

Formatting:

CP Smith

CHAPTER 1

Sophia

“I SEE HERE you have experience in the food industry. Where did you work before?”

The barely twenty-year-old fidgets in her seat.

“McDonald’s.”

Of course.

I did my own creative résumé writing when I was younger, eager to bolster up my meager qualifications to land a job, but for the Backyard Edge it’s simply not enough.

The restaurant has only been open a couple of weeks and already I’ve lost a few of my waitstaff. I’m told it’s not unusual to have a high turnover at first, but I find it a little discouraging. Especially since I’m new to this type of business.

I spend a few more minutes talking with the girl before I get up and hold out my hand.

“I appreciate you coming in, Crystal. I’ll be in touch.”

Unfortunately that will be to let her know she didn’t get the job.

“No luck?”

I turn around to find Bernie, one of the sous-chefs, wandering in from the kitchen. He’s here early to start on prep.

“Afraid not. Too young, too inexperienced.” I run my fingers through my short hair. “I need to add at least two reliable servers and I can’t even find one.”

“I was thinking, I may know someone. A girl I worked with at my previous restaurant before it closed down. She may not have found anything else yet. I can give her a call, if you like,” he offers.

“Yes. Please do.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I can at least get the word out there.”

“That would be amazing, thank you.”

Temporarily putting the staffing issues out of my mind, I disappear into my small office and dive into the orders I need to place.

That’s more my strength, paperwork and budgets. Other than a part-time job at a fast-food joint when I was still in school, I have no experience in the restaurant business. In fact, three weeks ago I was still doing payroll and accounts payable for a small manufacturing company in Denver.

I was in Durango in May, attending the wedding of my best friend, Kelsey’s father. Kelsey and I both worked for the same military transport company in Denver, until last year when she discovered our boss was involved in illegal arms deals. Unfortunately, that knowledge cost Kelsey her life and put a target on my back as well. I ended up with a gnarly scar on my left leg, from a bullet wound, but survived. My bestie did not and left behind an infant son, who ended up living with her father.

Brick, his new wife, Lisa, and her two young grandkids took Finn into their home without question. I’d be lying if I said part of me wasn’t disappointed—I love that baby like he was my own—but I’m not sure a single, and at that time unemployed, woman would’ve been best for him. He’s better off with them, as part of a family. A family I seem to have been adopted into as well.

Brick runs the auto shop at the Arrow’s Edge MC compound, where Lisa basically runs the clubhouse. The club is not at all what I would’ve expected. It has a strong focus on family, provides a safe haven for troubled boys, and owns a growing number of legitimate businesses in Durango. The latest of which is the Backyard Edge.

By merit of being Kelsey’s friend, I was taken into their protection last year. Protection that was taken a little too seriously by two of the brothers, which is why it was Ouray, the club’s president, who gave me a ride to the airport last month.

I’d flown in to attend Lisa and Brick’s wedding for a few days and had to rush back to Denver because my boss was an asshole. On the drive I’d mentioned to Ouray my job in Denver wasn’t shaping up the way I’d hoped, and I was looking for something else. Even considered moving closer to my sister, who lives in Oregon with her family. He brought up the Backyard Edge, a more upscale venue than the microbrewery the club also owns. Then he offered me a job, asking if I’d be interested in managing the new place.

That took me by surprise. I’m a numbers girl, always have been, but he assured me that was part of the reason he offered me the job. That and the fact I’d give the place some ‘class.’ I’m not too sure about the last, but the offer was intriguing to say the least. It was a challenge, a new opportunity, and a chance to be closer to Finn.

Back in Denver I thought of little else the following week, and after yet another frustrating day at work, I ended up calling him.

Three weeks ago, I drove here with just a couple of suitcases. The rest of my stuff was temporarily stored, until I could find something more permanent than a spare bedroom over the garage of the mother-in-law of one of the club members. Like